Circumstances
by endless-amber-skies
Summary: Impression has been the turning point for many a young man and woman all across Pern for countless turns. How many Candidates stand, compelled by their desires? Prestige and rank mean nothing to one young woman with only one end to Impression in mind..
1. Eros

_Sunset had begun its golden descent below the horizon, melting away from the velvet robes of dusk as it began its ascension onto the Pernese landscape. The heady scent of brewing klah mingled with the roast being prepared for supper, wafting like evening conversation over the weyr; warm and welcome after the day of hard work. _

_Wingbeat soon added to the rich canvas of the smells and sounds of the weyr at dusk, alighting into the bowl. Weary riders unstrapped themselves from the backs of the grand beasts, slipping off helmets and goggles. Dragon and rider stood together in warm communion in the bowl, overlooking the emerging velvet of the evening and engaged in light conversation. _

"_Oho! Good eve to ye, little pluck. What have ye got there?" _

_Wingsecond A'tel had turned toward the soft footsteps that had sounded behind him, small and hesitant, those of a child. The conversation briefly stopped to regard a small girl, her black hair cut boyishly short, bangs framing bright, dark eyes. Her tunic was too big for her tiny frame, the hem pulling a swathed trail into the fine dust. She cradled something against her small body, shy and anxious, wandering over to one of the youth standing beside A'tel; Edenwar, his own boy. The wingsecond flew one of the grand browns, and had hoped to hear of his paternal son Impressing at the next Hatching._

_She unfolded her hands from against her chest, hands outstretched, presenting something aromatic to the blue-eyed youth who suddenly blushed at the innocent offering: a small stein of klah, fragrant and filled to the brim. Just for him. Edenwar stooped to one knee and took it from the girl, taking a sip and leaning forward to kiss her briefly on the forehead. "Thank you, little sweet."_

_The girl blushed, speechless with pleasure before scampering off just as the final rays of sun disappeared over the horizon._

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**(Temporary) Author's Note:**

_This is actually the first Pern fic I've attempted. Sure, its only a teeny intro, but at least I've got my foot in the door!_

_However, I am also asking for some help: I was hoping to find a beta reader to help me along; Someone who is very knowledgeable about DoP canon would be absolutely perfect. I have two other chapters almost ready if anybody is interested~ (and please, be interested! :3)_

_Secondly, and as silly as it sounds, I cannot for the life of me think of a name for the main character, bah. I have considered names such as Anise, Fennel, Laurel, but nothing really has struck me as suitable. Quite a bothersome problem, actually. Would anybody like to help me with their character-naming prowess?_

_Anyway, thanks again for reading, and don't forget to review!_

_**e+a+s**_


	2. Himeros

C i r c u m s t a n c e s

**C**hapter**O**ne:

~~~_**Himeros**__; unrequited love_~~~

"_Laurel, if you stare at him any longer you'll bore a hole into his head."_

The girl suddenly jumped up from her position, standing upright from where she had been peeking into the dining hall at the small assemblage of young men who had stolen in after the evening meal. The kitchen still reeked of the grease and ash that had clotted beneath the spit, only a sparse amount of glows gathered in the kitchen in order to maintain the girls' secretive vigil. She swatted a hand at her friend, her eyes warm and teasing.

Cora stood leaning against the wall, watching her friend with mild amusement as they waited in the dimly lit space. "Honestly! Volunteering _me_ for extra duty with you just so that you can spy on him without any suspicion, you awful child. And you still have yet to say anything to him! Do you even what his name is since he changed it?" Laurel's dark hair was braided up into its trademark crown around her head, and she was wearing her best dirndl in the off-chance that she should stumble upon one of them… by no accident, of course. It was not unusual for her companion to steal off into the night and regale Cora of her odd little adventures the next morning. This time she had invited her however, and both girls were grateful of their unspoken camaraderie.

Cora wandered over to where Laurel had settled again on watching the small party, twisting her auburn waves into a long braid as she tried to determine whom it was exactly her companion was smitten by. They were all fairly young, no older than seventeen at most - gathered around in a circle at one of the tables, sharing stories intently and stopping once in awhile to laugh heartily.

Though of them all, there was not a single one who could have been considered particularly unattractive- and they were all riders, without a doubt. The demeanor and swagger of those still newly Impressed was shown sharply in the way they spoke, and moved. Indeed- no mere weyr boy would have the audacity to sneak into the halls after hours to do as he so wished.

Laurel on the other hand only smiled to herself at the sight of one of them in particular, her heart nearly rising into her throat as it had done so many times when she had ever stolen a glimpse at him. Cora caught the look, following her gaze to a tall, brazen young man, though he was sitting too far away in the dim hall to distinguish any distinct features. "Is it him? It's that boy from before, isn't it?"

"Oi, Pluck! What is all this nonsense then?"

Laurel stiffened at the nickname the Wingsecond had labeled her with years before, unintentionally scowling into the dark as she whirled around.

Huron was suddenly standing at the entrance to the kitchen, eyeing both girls with his usual handful of lackwits and already looking ready for trouble. Hoping to throw his weight around and make nice with the senior boys in the hall, no doubt.

Cora wrinkled her nose as if a stench had permeated the room. "Have off, you lot."

The tall, burly boy was undaunted- he nodded toward Laurel, cracking a vulgar smile. "Well, Pluck? I do believe that you are trespassing- well, as much as a woman could trespass in a kitchen, eh?" Laughter rippled through the boys, and Huron was soon before them in a few strides, then realized that the pair had been watching the young riders in the hall. "Oho! I see now- our little Pluck has found herself an itch, hmm?" Cora had batted away one of the grubby fingers wielding a spit poker to crudely lift her skirts, then ran to stand beside Laurel. "What, are you jealous?"

Huron was slightly taken aback, then quickly lunged forward to grab Cora by the arm and catching a handful of Laurel's strict braids, and she cried out in surprise.

"Little Cora and her Pluck, tomboying around." He shook them, and Laurel felt tears sting her eyes at the smarting on her scalp. "Mayhap one of you will Impress green, and the other a brown! That would suit your lot!"

Laurel balled her hands into fists, struggling against him and clawing at his grip on Cora to no avail. Still, she kept her chin up and indignantly looked him in the eye."_You _will never Impress," she hissed, her eyes sharp. " Your dung brain is too _empty_ for anybody to understand! You and your useless brother, still addling around in the halls as nattering old men and picking on children because they _both_ failed to do _anything_ useful. Like your mum before you. The best thing she was good at was hanging about during a rising."

The boy was dumbstruck at the stinging insult, and the laughing boys behind them fell as silent as death. Fear, frustration had made her belligerent, and Laurel took the moment to kick wildly at him, adamantly spewing insults and as angry as a feline with trodden tail. Huron hefted her flailing, cussing form easily over his shoulder, and realized that the conversation in the hall had fallen silent. It was best if they left, and now.

"Come lads.. and we shall show these two little broads who has dung for brains." He chucked a stumbling Cora at them and crowed with laughter, and seeing as their leader was back in his usual spirits, his motley little crew gladly complied.

Laurel sat, eyes raw and red-rimmed from crying in the cooling bath, furiously scrubbing her tender scalp. It had been bad enough that her scalp still stung from Huron dragging her about by her braids, but now even more so as Cora helped her scrub the spit-dog dung he had copiously smeared into her hair. It had been a few hours now since then and well past an ungodly hour of night, and she still thought she felt the greasy, pungent stink crowding her in the small tub- they had already drained and refilled it several times through the night. Cora had been silent a long while, until Laurel's sobs quieted and she calmed. "He likes you, you know. He has an awful way of showing it, but it is obvious." Laurel glared daggers at her- that runnerbeast's arse was the last thing she wanted to hear about right now. Cora ignored it, and managed a sincere smile.

"And never have I seen you so fierce, Laurel. Pluck, indeed! I think that is why Huron insists on picking on you." Laurel turned an even brighter shade of red, and looked ready to bite Cora's face into pieces as she speculated. "..He likes it."

"A lot of good it did me, then! By my troth! Tonight was an utter nightmare, and it is even worse because I had _you_ dragged into it." Laurel looked ready to cry again, and she pouted at her faithful friend. "Forgive me, Cora." Cora said nothing in turn, but continued smiling at her. Another few moments passed, and the tugging on Laurel's unruly hair had suddenly ceased.

"Laurel, I never noticed you hair before.. not really. You always have it braided up." Laurel said nothing, thinking of when the other children asked her who her father had been in the weyr. Surely enough she knew who her mother was, though she had no more contact with her than any other child would with their paternal mothers. And she was more than aware that she was considered rather.. _exotic_ in comparison to the others in the weyr: Her skin was visibly darker than others; a smooth, even, golden-brown complexion as if she had spent many days outside freely in the sun, and her hair grew noticeably thicker, curlier than anyone she knew. Her eyes, at least, were brown and not as uncommon as the rest of her features, and she was thankful for it. Even so, her body still had its share of baby fat that was common for her age of twelve turns, and who knew what other oddities would be in store as she grew? Still, she resented it. Cora was already as comely and rosy and chestnut-haired as her namesake, and Laurel was not mistaken when she thought that it had spared her the worst of the punishment that night.

Cora mistook Laurel's silence in reflection of something else, and wrinkled her nose- such was a common habit of hers when she was deep in thought. "But he _does_ like you, you know."

_Well! The first chapter up and I think that I'm off to a pretty decent start! Yes? No? Either way, it would be lovely if you told me what you thought in a review! I hope that you enjoyed it!_

_e+a+s_


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